What a Day
by unsuspectingTies
Summary: BECHLOE BECHLOE BECHLOE. What a difference a day makes. Chloe Beale is somewhat of a nobody working for Residual Heat. Beca Mitchell is a hot-shot newcomer working for the same company. One specific Monday morning, Chloe's car won't start. Through the help of her friend Aubrey, she manages a way to get to the office. With THE Beca Mitchell, whom she's never met.


**What a Day** – Part 1 of 4

* * *

"Oh shit. Shit shit shit. Fuck!" Chloe wailed. "Noooooo…"

She rested her head against her steering wheel, red locks falling gently in front from her loose bun.

Her Hyundai Elantra was not starting this morning. It was a 2013 for Christ's sake! But no, she had recently been having issues with the battery. She soon learned that she needed to buy a completely new battery. It was her first time, but thankfully, the man at the auto parts store took pity on her. He didn't come on to her either, well, at least not until her car was up and running again. As grateful as she was that he saved her car from the frequent "no start" situations, she was not keen on "seeing where the night might take them." Not with him.

She obtained the new car battery, paid the expense begrudgingly, and went on her way. She thought that she was finally resolved from this issue, and wouldn't have to worry about anything "car-related" for months. She would also use this blissful time to re-save the money spent on the battery. Life was good again. This all took place just before the weekend, and now, now it was a brisk Monday morning. She walked outside with her mocha in hand, got in the car, and it would not crank.

"What the hell is wrong now?!" She nearly cried.

Maybe if it were any other morning, maybe she could accept her fate. Maybe she would turn her head with a chuckle and flip the bird to whomever was passing by. But not today. Not this morning. She had to be at work in an hour.

This was nothing new, of course. She had been working for Residual Heat for almost three years now. She had the Monday through Friday work "grind." Eight a.m. to five p.m. Her schedule was routine, grateful for actual weekends.

Chloe had a hard time graduating from Barden University, for she had a hard time truly understanding what it was that she "wanted to do." What if someone didn't have anything special in mind? Was that acceptable? Was she scared of what she really wanted? She simply ended with her lack of ambition.

Usually, when she got into anything, she was "balls to the wall" about it. She was extremely passionate. Some might say she was obsessive. Chloe always figured if you were lucky enough to love something – why the hell NOT go 110 percent into it. Okay. So, she had the personality. That doesn't mean she knew her direction. All sparked fuse, no clear point.

Like many college graduates, she fell into an entry-level desk job. She became the Administrative Assistant at Residual Heat. At the time she applied, that's all she knew. The title of the local company. It could have been anything. All she knew was that this was a clerical-type position. Answer the phones, file, that type of stuff. Surely they would take someone with a college degree…of any nature. When she was asked in for her interview, she was surprised to find that this was a private recording label – one that was started a year prior – one that included one of the hottest up and coming producers, Beca Mitchell.

Chloe tried to not allow that to throw her focus. Did she listen to the Top 40? Of course – she wasn't living under a rock.

Once she landed this job, she started in the position, and remained there. It became comfortable, somewhat. She learned her basic duties, and tried to keep a social life otherwise. She seemed to settle. But, as her parents were beginning to tell her more and more – she was too young to settle in this town.

So, as this was a typical Monday morning for her – it also wasn't. Today was the first of the month, which usually meant it was a bit busier than most. It also meant that meetings would be held all day, ones in which would cover new music on the radar, and upcoming events – if any. All of the top execs would be in attendance, including Beca Mitchell. Chloe wasn't trying to specifically remember that part, however, Beca was the only artist she truly knew. Knew her…on the radio so to speak. She had never actually met the DJ – the one they called Medusa.

Coworkers were nice to Chloe. She was the "gal at the front desk." She often heard everything that buzzed around the offices. She heard horror stories about Beca. She knew that she was not someone you would want on your bad side. Much like a baby Anna Winter, she had the power to crush your hopes and dreams – especially if you were an artist. She was simply, that good. No one thought otherwise, or dared to test it.

While these meetings always held big potential – it didn't mean Chloe was involved with them. She didn't have a music background. She was Miss Office 2017. If they were all in a meeting, she was outside, covering the phones and taking messages. So, long story short, Chloe needed to be there to handle things while the big dogs worked. This morning? It was getting seriously scary.

Chloe got out of her car, assuming it was the battery again, (though it shouldn't have been). She didn't see any of her neighbors home. No one able to give her a jump. So she called AAA. After hearing that the gentleman would be there in ten to fifteen minutes after the _hour_ , she dialed her closest friend in the office, Aubrey.

"What are you going to do?!" Aubrey exclaimed.

"There's not much I can do – but AAA will be here soon. Which means I will be there soon…just…a little late." Chloe bit her lip.

"I cannot process this, Chloe." Aubrey said.

"It's literally the first time I'll be running late…like…ever. I'm sure it will be fine." Chloe reasoned.

"I'm not so sure about that. Apparently there's a huge ordeal going down about the American Music Awards and they need to fill a slot. You know how testy they can get."

"Well, that's their issue I would think…"

"You need to be here in case someone calls, that's my point. An emergency call, I don't know!"

Chloe was starting to get incredibly concerned.

"I don't know what to do, Bree! What do I do?!" Chloe frowned. She began pacing.

"Okay. Let me think."

Aubrey was in human resources, separate from the main building of Residual Heat. Her father always said she needed to be a gatekeeper, not a gate. Whatever that meant. Bottom line, she had everyone's contact information at the ready.

"The closest employee near you is…" Aubrey said, typing in the background. "Oh! Hang on; I have to let you go. Don't worry Chlo, I will get you here!"

And with that, all Chloe could do was hang up and wait. She sighed, unsure of what all to expect. She wasn't left with a very good feeling. _Gee, thanks Bree._ She didn't know what else to do, so she turned around and walked back inside the house. She sat down at her small, single kitchen table. She decided to make another cup of coffee. She thought maybe she shouldn't – she was already on edge. But this would give her a little something to do while she waited. She turned on the television as well. Good Morning America was barely starting.

The My Favorite Murder theme song came on – one of Chloe's favorite podcasts. This meant her cellphone was ringing. Shit! She saw that Aubrey was ringing her back.

"H-Hello?"

"Outside in three, mkay?"

"I don't understand. Did you call a cab?"

"Heck no, you know how stingy this corporation is. They'd never accept my expense report for something like that. A ride to work? Come on, Chloe." Aubrey reasoned, leaving no effect on Chloe. Chloe didn't fucking know.

"Uh. Okay." Chloe said, gathering her to-go cup again, and turning off the television. She turned and started walking back to her front door. She grabbed her keys to the house off of her table, looking down in the process.

"Mitchell doesn't mind, after all. She's running behind herself. Worked out perfectly."

"Wait, WHAT?" Chloe barked.

As her head snapped up, she saw a red Porsche outside on her street, slowly rolling to a stop. Immediately, she heard the shrill car horn.

Not only did she hear it, she continued to hear it. For the driver never let her hand off of the wheel. This prompted Chloe to drop her phone suddenly. She cursed under her breath as she retrieved it quickly. Chloe stumbled out of her front door, closing her skirt in the doorframe in her panic. Chloe never realized she did this, as suddenly her eyes caught stormy blues looking right her.

As the car horn continued its singular roar.


End file.
